THIS pretty Isle of which I mean to speak,
And of its state a sober view to take,
Lies in St. George's Sea, a spot serene,
Tho' small its compass, 'tis a precious gem.
Old Albion's cliffs ward off the Northern Sea,
Whilst Lancashire protects it on the East,
Towards the West, Hibernia's Hills are spread,
Whilst fair Anglesea South uprears her head,
When its extent and form we come to view,
'Tis pretty long, but narrow it is true.
From its most Northern part, call'd Point of Ayre,
Unto the Calf, its length you have it there.
'Tis said, exclusive of the Calf and Isles,
To measure fully thirty English miles.
As for its width, the writers which I read
Upon this point have sadly disagreed,
But I will tell you just as I have seen
Some say nine miles, or ten, and some fifteen.
So I will leave it to sagacious men,
Take it at nine, at fifteen miles, or ten.
Four market Towns there are, which one by one,
I mean to mention as we're going along:
First there is Castletown, a place of note,
Well known to Manxmen as a favourite spot;
It has a harbour, as the sea is near,
And Mona's Rulers for the most are there.
But for the Port and Pier, say what we may,
Still dangerous rocks lie hidden in the Bay.
There a fine Castle is, from which I trove
The town has got its name many years ago.
'Tis there you'll find the Statutes of the Land,
And by just Laws we rule the Isle of Mann.

Now Douglas, in the centre of our land,
The best by far we have at our command
Worthless compar'd with many a foreign town,
Still we embrace it chiefest of our own.
Here you will meet with men of different ranks,
Strangers and foreigners, as well as Manx;
A noble harbour and a pleasant Bay,
And different nations hither find their way.
There they maintain, considering its size,
Brisk trade in various sorts of merchandise;
The houses shine according to the means
Of those who built them according to their means.
Here some are rich, while others poor you'll find,-
A common case of course among mankind.

The Town of Peel, on the North-Western shore,
Of notoriety in days of yore,
Ranks as the third, is little so to speak,
But full of people, there is no mistake.
Its Castle stands upon Peel Island top,
'Tis firmly built and founded on the rock;
As for the Bay, its merits I don't plead,
But still 'tis well there's such in times of need;
Nor will I spend much praise upon the Port,
As they have found it, let each one report.
Still of the Bay the Shipping make their road,
And in the river some discharge their load
Hence we may guess they must be so and so,
Or else their danger they should quickly know.
In this community we're glad to find
Some who are snug in a commercial line;
Some houses good, some not like many a where,-
What more about her would you wish to hear?

Old Ramsey Town, now reckon'd as the fourth,
Which claims our notice, is the farthest North;
Altho' the smallest of our market towns,
In human beings still it more abounds:
But whilst the multitudes which dwell therein
Cause their provisions to be scarce and thin,
Thrift and industry might increase their store,
To meet their wants, tho' there were three times more
At times there traffick here is brisk and tough,
Their trade at other times is dull enough.
Here many strangers from old Scotland roam,
Some come and go-some make it as their home
There's a good harbour and the finest Bay
Which North or South can furnish at this day.
Outside their humble cottages are seen,
The mean or careless gait of those within.

Thus far the market towns, their state and trade,
About the Villages there's nothing said
Of these there are but four or five in all,
And even they are comparatively small.
The climate mildthe air is pure and clean,
And Mona's soil is good, producing grain.
Yea, almost every sort which has been tried,
And for the most her sons are without pride,
Kind to relieve the stranger and the poor,
And sooth th' afflicted who frequent their door.
Horses and cattle, sheep, goats and so forth,
Are reared, abundantly both South and North.
Plenty of wood grew here in former days,
But this abundance we have seen to cease.
Their fuel now is fern, turf, ling, and peat,
And even these are running short of late.
From distant coal-pits we've our towns supplied,
Across the water from the eastern side.
Peace and contentment are the people's lot,
Under such laws and Rulers as they've got.
A Gov'nor and two Deemsters you may know,
Are the dispensers of the civil law.
The Bishop, with two Vicars, we report,
These constitute the Ecclesiastic Court.
From near the centre, not unlike a house,
The sloping hills run chiefly North and South
Here you encounter the renowned Snafell,
The highest and the most remarkable.
On Snafell's summit strange to say, but true,
Three distant kingdoms rise up to your view.

The Manxthey were in ages past and gone,
A powerful, warlike people of renown
But no disturbers now approach the spot,
So peace and safety is their happy lot.
No doubt, the news has reached to all around,
That Nymphs and Fairies through the land abound.
There 're few localities which do not claim,
Their ghost, their night steed, or their big Boggane-
And these are said to rule with such a sway,
That they are often seen by night and day.
I know not what to say about this case,
Nor see it needful many words to waste.
Some through strong fear, some through weak intellect,
Should I enquire, they speak to this effect.
T'was truly so: what can I then reply,
I say you're surely cheated by your eye
This they deny and further proof they bring,
T'was thus-T'was more or less, and such like thing-
I may not say, you are a lying sage,
So tales are born and live from age to age.
Let those who're told such phantoms do proceed,
From living bodies or from bodies dead.
The matter treat according to its worth,
Of him who broach the story at its birth
His truth and soberness, but still I own
I'd rather disbelieve and let alone;
As all who 'ttempt such theories to repeat,
Are sure, (and ought), with ridicule to meet.
Now to do justice to this fairy spot,
To warrant all I've said correct or not
Before the truth, I trust, I need not quail,
So for the present, I conclude my tale.